


Choking on Love

by PeannutWrites



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Illnesses, Mild Gore, Relationship(s), Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:41:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeannutWrites/pseuds/PeannutWrites
Summary: "Hanahaki disease is a sickness where the victim coughs up petals from flowers that grow inside their lungs when they are suffering from one-sided love."Arnold fears the worst.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been burning at the back of my mind for awhile now. (!WARNING FOR MILD GORE!)

    It was coming close to the end of class and most of the kids were excited to get out and do their favorite after-school activities. One of these students was Arnold.

    There he sat at his desk, mindlessly doodling in his notepad when suddenly, he felt something wet and gross pelt him on the back of the head. _’Ugh,’_ he scowled as he turned around to face his tormenter. _’Helga.’_

    ” _What_ ?” she whispered harshly, feigning her innocence. Arnold glared at her for a moment and then turned back to his desk. She always did this, _constantly_ , and it was getting _worse._

    Ever since the FTi incident, it was almost as if she was trying to make _sure_ he forgot all about her feelings. _’For someone who apparently loves me so much, she sure doesn't act like it.’_ the boy thought. The sound of Mr. Simons happy voice brought him out of his thoughts.

    ”Alright, class!” the man said in his usual cheerful tone, ”I know it's the end of the day and you're all excited to get out and do your own special thing, but we have just a few more minutes and I'd like to discuss English!”

    The students moaned definitely as Simons brought a paper out of his desk. “Now, before we get started I want to read one of last week's poetry assignments. This one's by ‘Anonymous’.”

    Arnold suddenly perked up. Despite how much the rest of the class loathed their poetry lessons, the football-headed boy just couldn't help but enjoy them. Not because he was particularly good at writing poetry, but because of the fact that every time they had one of the assignments, Simons would read a poem from a certain anonymous poet. Although his interest in poetry had only stemmed from his short-lived crush on their substitute teacher, Ms. Felter (a very embarrassing crush that he liked to repress) he still found himself becoming fond of it (despite Gerald’s criticism.) He had tried writing some in his own time, but the poems he wrote were never something he was proud of (not to mention the ones he turned in for class were the worst part of his English grade.) Despite all this, whenever Mr. Simmons would read the unknown author’s poems, he couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at the pretty words.

    Meanwhile, whilst Arnold was having these feelings, Helga tensed as she sunk down in her seat. Unlike her beloved, she _hated_ these poetry assignments. Not because she was bad at it, oh no, but because of the fact that the poetry their teacher read wasn't just _any_ poetry, but _her_ poetry. Helga G. Pataki. This was the most embarrassing part of class. Thankfully, their classmates were too dimwitted to catch wind of to whom the writing belonged, but _still_ . The blonde girl sighed, _‘Well, at least nobody knows yet…’_ she looked over at Arnold, who was just smiling with his dreamy half-lidded gaze, she then sat up as Mr. Simmons finished reading her poem.

    “‘ _-and yet my love pours out, like waves of tears, each time I see and feel you near.’_ Oh, how wonderful!” Simmons cried, wiping a tear from his eye. “Well! I hope you all enjoyed that as much as I did! Anyways, moving on, I have a very special new assignment for you!” the class groaned as he continued, “It’s a report on any kind of myth or legend of your choice! You can do it on mythical creatures, stories, prophecies, anything you want!”

    Harold raised his hand, “Mr. Simmons? Can we write about food?”

    The class laughed as their teacher struggled for an answer, “Um… Well Harold- if you can find a good myth about food, then… I suppose… You can…” he shook his head, “anyway,” he straightened up to address the rest of the class, “the assignment is due next Monday. Be creative, kids!”

    Helga rolled her eyes at Simmons enthusiasm and thought about the project they were just given, _‘Myths and legends, huh? Shouldn't be too hard…’_ she smirked to herself and went back to watching the clock.

    Arnold, however, was still thinking about the assignment. _‘I wonder what I should do for it…’_ he thought, ‘ _Maybe I should go to the library after school and try to find something…’_ his thoughts halted as he felt another spitball hit him as he cringed. _‘Maybe I can find a myth about a girl who tortures the people she loves…’_

* * *

     As soon as class was over, Arnold made his way to the school library to figure out his project. He headed over to the mythology section and was looking around when he spotted a book about mythological illnesses. He chuckled as it reminded him of the time Helga thought she had monkeynucleosis and invited all the kids to her house. It also reminded him of what she was trying to tell him when Phoebe had interrupted.

    “She was probably trying to tell me how she really felt…” he said to himself. Although she had told him that she just wanted to let him know she thought he was “okay”, he still couldn't help but realize that that probably wasn't the whole truth. He sighed, “Why couldn't she just tell me then?! I probably would've been able to figure out my feelings by n-”

    Arnold was suddenly hushed harshly by a librarian. He cringed.

    “ _Sorry…_ ” he apologized in a whisper, smiling nervously. After the lady left he went back to looking at the book on the shelf. He decided he’d pick it up and look through it. He flipped through a few pages until he spotted a page that interested him. It was about unrequited love.

    “Han… Hana… W-what?” he squinted at the page, trying to make out the word, “ _Ha-na-ha-ki_ …” his brow furrowed. He shook his head and continued reading. “‘Hanahaki disease is a sickness where the victim coughs up petals from flowers that grow inside their lungs when they are suffering from one-sided love. It only ends when the victim’s beloved returns their feelings (friendship doesn't count) or when they die.’” Arnold's face paled at the last part, “‘The sickness may stop if the flowers are removed from the victim’s lungs, but the feelings will also disappear…’ geez…” Arnold cringed at the gory explanation but continued.

    “‘The term “hanahaki” comes from the Japanese word ‘hana’ for flower and…’” he squinted, “‘ _ha-ki-ma-su’_ which means ‘to throw up’. Though there are several versions of the disease as a trope, the most common is when flowers and roots grow throughout the victim's lungs and respiratory system until they choke on blood and flowers and suffocate…’”

    Arnold gulped. That sounded terrible! Not only would someone not reciprocate your feelings, but you could DIE from it! The boy shuddered at the thought but he decided to check out the book and use it for his project. Plus he kind of wanted to read some more about the disease… Maybe not for his project, but just out of his own curiosity.

* * *

     As Arnold left the library, he was still thinking about the mythical sickness when suddenly, he crashed right into someone.

    “Arnold!?” He heard a familiar female voice shout in surprise. “I-I mean... watch where you’re going, Football-head! Sheesh!”

    “Oh, sorry Helga,” Arnold replied as he got up, dusting himself off. As he went to pick up his book, Helga couldn't help but notice the title.

    “ _‘Mythical Diseases Around the World’_ ? Pfft, you’re using _that_ book for your writing project?” Helga chuckled, remembering the similar book she read back in fourth grade.

    “Uh, well… yeah, maybe.” Arnold replied wearily, “I actually got it ‘cause I saw a certain illness that I-”

    “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Something interested you and you can’t help but look into it because you’re Arnold,” Helga interrupted rudely before he could finish, “Now if you’ll excuse me Football-head, I gotta get home before Big Bob eats all my leftovers.” She then promptly shoved him out of the way and went down the hall towards the doors.

    Arnold glared at her before turning around and trailing toward his locker. Suddenly though, the sound of coughing stopped him in his tracks.

    He looked back at Helga who had yet to make her way out the door. She was stooped over, holding her chest as she coughed violently. The words of the book filled Arnold’s head, _“The victim coughs up petals from flowers that grow inside their lungs when they are suffering from one-sided love.”_ Arnold shook his head and rushed to her side to help her.

    “Helga! Are you okay?!” He asked worriedly.

    “Ack, I’m _fine_ Arnoldo, it was just a little cough.” She waved him off as she regained her composure.

    “A-are you sure? Maybe I should walk you home…” he prodded. The book’s words were still on his mind.

    “I said I’m _fine_ Arnold, sheesh! You act like I just fainted or something…” she insisted (though she inwardly swooned at his suggestion.)

           He eyed her warily but finally compiled. “Okay Helga…” he then slowly turned towards his locker and looked back once more. “Uh… Bye!” he left.

    Helga was a little weirded out by his sudden change in attitude, but she brushed it off with a shrug. “Uh, okay. See ya, Football-head.” she waved as she walked out the doors.

* * *

     Later, as Arnold was walking home he tried desperately to ease his mind.

    “It's okay Arnold, the disease isn't real. It's just a myth! I'm sure Helga just had a tickle in her throat. There is no way it could be the sickness. She's fine-”

    “Hey, Arnold? Hey Arnold!”

    Arnold stopped his monologue to look back at the source of the voice.

    “Oh! Hey Gerald.” he greeted his best friend as they did their signature handshake.

    “Hey man, what were you doing after school earlier? You kinda missed the bus.” Gerald asked as the started walking.

    “Oh, I was just at the library trying to find something for my project,” Arnold replied as he kicked at the ground.

    “Oh yeah! The writing thing! So what're you gonna do for it?” Gerald asked.

    “Well actually, I found this one book on mythical diseases,” Arnold said pulling out the book from his bag, “and when I looked through it there was some kind of disease connected to unrequited love and-”

    “It reminded you of Helga, didn’t it?” Gerald interrupted as he stopped. He was giving Arnold a deadpan look.

    Arnold stopped with him and looked down. He had told Gerald about Helga’s feelings for him a while ago. “Listen, Gerald, I-”

    “I know, I know. You still ‘haven't figured out your feelings’.” Gerald rolled his eyes, “Man, you should just tell her you don't like her! It would make things a lot easier.”

          “How many times do I have to tell you, Gerald?! I can't do that!” the Football-headed boy exclaimed waving his arms frantically. “It’d be completely heartless! I’d never forgive myself.”

    Gerald crossed his arms, “I still don't get why you care.”

    “Gerald…” Arnold glared.

    Gerald sighed. He knew Arnold too well to think it’d be that easy for him. That kid would _never_ let something go, and he suspected that, if he _did_ find it in himself to reject Helga, the resounding gilt of it all would weigh on him like he had made the worst decision in his entire life (which also meant him complaining about how bad he felt: not something Gerald really wanted to deal with.)

    “Alright, fine. You don't have to tell her you don't like her yet. But if you don't ‘figure out your feelings’ soon, then I'm gonna _make_ you tell her.” Gerald told him with a stern look.

    Arnold slumped wearily and mumbled, “That might take a while…”

    The two boys continued walking. After a bit of silence, Arnold spoke up. “Anyways, I read about this one disease about one-sided love. It was… really gory actually…”

    Gerald raised an eyebrow, “Gory? Gory how?”

    “Well, the sickness apparently makes flowers grow in the victim's throat and lungs…” Arnold replied.

    Gerald gave a choking cringe, “ _Yikes_ …”

    “I know,” Arnold agreed, “but it doesn’t stop there. Apparently the only way to get rid of it is to either have the person they’re in love with return their feelings or to have the flowers surgically removed, but then their feelings disappear with them. Otherwise they’ll choke on their own blood and die.”

    Gerald grimaced as Arnold finished his explanation, “Dang man, that really is gory…”

    “No kidding,” Arnold nodded. He had the same reaction when he read the section.

    “Welp, I’ll see ya later man,” Gerald said as the two boys reached Arnold’s house.

    “See ya, Gerald,” they did their signature handshake. Arnold then went inside as the usual herd of animals poured out the door.

* * *

     Later that night as Arnold lay in his bed, he began to contemplate the book and the sickness within it that had plagued his mind. Something made him uneasy about the way Helga was coughing. The disease was just a myth, right? So why did Arnold suddenly fear the worst?

    “It’s fine, Arnold. There’s no way Helga’s cough could have any relation to the sickness, right? She said herself after all: it was just a cough. There’s nothing to be worried about…” Arnold found comfort in these words and began to drift off.

    _‘Helga’s fine… yeah…’_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! ANOTHER CAPTER! :D
> 
> Sorry this took so long lol I'm a terrible procrastinator. 
> 
> !WARNING!  
> This chapter is a lot more graphic than the last. Also, this is the only time the "character death" happens, so don't worry, I won't kill off my girl for real♡

_ It was dark. Arnold was running as if he was looking for something. (Or was it someone?) He stopped and looked down. There was a trail. A trail of petals. _

__ _ And blood. _

__ _ ‘No…’ _

__ _ He started running faster. The trail got wider. The blood got thicker. The petals turned into full, blooming flowers. The trail continued until it stopped. _

__ _ It stopped at a body. _

__ _ ‘Helga!’ _

__ _ Arnold rushed to her side. She was so close to death. The flowers were sprouting from her mouth, throat, and chest. Blood was practically pouring out of her body. She could barely breathe. _

__ _ ‘Helga! I-I’m so sorry… I never wanted this to happen. Helga, please… please stay with me.’ he pleaded as he knelt next to her. _

__ _ Helga looked at him. Her icy blue eyes had turned cloudy gray. They were brimming with tears which mixed with blood as they poured down her face. _

__ _ Arnold began to sob. He wasn’t one to cry, but he couldn’t help it. Short, choked weeping escaped his throat as he lowered his head. _

__ _ Helga stretched out a shaky hand to hold his cheek. She caressed his face in a way he could only guess she hoped was comforting, but his sobbing only grew louder. _

__ _ ‘Please…’ He cupped his hand over hers as he whispered one last plea, but it was of no use. _

__ _ Helga’s hand fell limp in his as her eyes slowly closed. Her labored breathing stopped. Arnold’s eyes widened with realization. _

__ _ She was gone. _

__ _ ‘No…’ _

__ _ ‘No-!’ _

* * *

__ “ _ NO! _ ” Arnold gasped as he woke up.

He looked around. He was in his bedroom, on his bed…

“It… was… just a dream…” he muttered to himself as he caught his breath.

He looked up at his clock, it was about six-thirty. His alarm would go off in a half hour.

Arnold slowly got out of bed. He figured he wouldn’t be able to get any more sleep after a dream like  _ that _ .

As the young boy made his way down the stairs, Phil noticed and greeted him, “Mornin’ shortman, you’re up early.”

Arnold answered tiredly, “Morning, grandpa…” he sighed, “I kinda woke up from a bad dream.”

Phil raised an eyebrow at Arnold’s statement, “Really now? Well, what was it about?”

Arnold hesitated a bit, “Well… you know Helga, right?”

Phil rubbed his chin in mock consideration, “Hmmm, you mean the little girl with the one eyebrow that I had a feeling might like you but you didn’t believe me until she came out and told you?” He gave a sly, knowing smirk.

Arnold rolled his eyes as he blushed, ‘ _ Right. Shoulda seen  _ **_that_ ** _ coming… _ ’ he shook his head with an exasperated sigh, “Yeah, yeah, her. Anyways, well… see, we have a project for English due next Monday on any myth of our choice and so I went to the library to find out what I could possibly do for it.” He watched Phil nod as he went into the kitchen, “Well, I found this one book on mythical illnesses and there was this one deadly disease about unrequited love and-“

“And you dreamt that she got sick from it...” Phil suddenly interrupted with an understanding look. Arnold’s lip quivered as he nodded.

“Yeah, it was terrible! And at the end of the dream…” he swallowed as his eyes welled with tears, “she… she actually-”

Suddenly a loud grumble met his ears. “Oh… hold that thought, Arnold!” Phil the rushed to the bathroom holding his stomach, “Remember, never eat raspberries!”

Arnold sighed as he slumped down at the table,  _ ‘Maybe it’s better if I just forget about the dream… I mean, it’s not like it’s gonna come  _ **_true_ ** _ or anything…” _

* * *

 Later that morning Arnold met up with his best friend at the bus stop.

“Hey man. You doing okay? You look a little tired…” Gerald asked as the two boys did their handshake.

Arnold smiled a bit wearily, “I’m fine, Gerald. Just woke up a little early this morning.”

The bus arrived and they made their way on when suddenly, the sound coughing had once again caught Arnold’s ears. He turned around…

Arnold paled at the sight. There was Helga, coughing and spluttering as she struggled to keep her balance. Her face was completely white and her eyes were sunken and grey.

__ _ ‘Just like in my dream…’ _ Arnold gulped. He watched as Helga stumbled her way through the aisle. He soon noticed that he wasn’t the only one staring. More of their classmates had started watching Helga with slight concern on their faces, and it didn’t escape Helga’s notice.

“Take a picture! it’ll-” she coughed, “l-last… longer…” she continued coughing as she sat down next to Phoebe.

“Helga, are you certain you should be going to school today? I mean, you look awfully… pale…” Phoebe tried to avoid any words like “ill” or “terrible” but her expression betrayed her.

Rolling her eyes, Helga put her finger to her chin, “Hmmm, lemme think; go to school and silently suffer or stay home and listen to Bob complain about how Olga ‘never had a sick day’ and ‘had perfect attendance’?” She gave her friend a sarcastic glare as Phoebe sighed.

A few seats behind them on the other side of the bus, Arnold was just staring with a horrified look. It didn't take long for Gerald to notice.

“Hey… what’s wrong?” He asked putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He then realized Arnold was shaking. “You seem kinda… shook up…”

Indeed, Arnold was very shaken up. It was almost as if everything he had dreamed, everything he feared since yesterday, had come true. Nonetheless, he shook his head.

“Well… here’s the thing…”

* * *

 “Mmm, mmm, MMM!” Gerald shook his head as he stared at Arnold in disbelief. During the bus ride, he had told Gerald all about the dream he had the night before. Now, they were stepping through the doors to P.S. 118.

“Tell me about it.” Arnold shuddered.

Gerald gave his friend a sympathetic pat  on his shoulder, “Man, I know the way Helga’s acting today might be a little worrying, but I’m sure it’s all just a coincidence!”

Arnold smiled hopefully at his best friend, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

That hope didn’t last long though, as loud coughing accompanied by a booming crash sounded down the next turn in the hall. The two boys quickly dashed around the corner to see Helga laying on the floor surrounded by janitor’s supplies as well as a deeply concerned Phoebe.

“What happened?!” questioned a frightened Gerald as Arnold raced to help the ill girl.

“I-I don’t know! She’s been coughing since this morning, a-and… I guess she just lost her balance…” Phoebe fretted. 

“ _ Ugh _ ,” Helga groaned as Arnold helped her to her feet, “I feel like there’s a  _ rose bush _ growing in my  _ lungs _ …”

Unfortunately, Helga’s analogy hit a little too close to home with Arnold as he stopped abruptly, practically frozen on the spot. Helga stumbled forward a bit and then raised an eyebrow at him.

The look on Arnold’s face was cold and horrified. He shook his head, a slight shiver going down his spine. “Um… h-how about I j-just… walk you to the nurse's office, Helga?” Arnold suggested as he nervously tried his best to smile.

Helga made an attempt at her signature scowl, “I don’t need your pity football-!” she gave a particularly hoarse cough, “-head…”

Arnold grimaced as he watched Helga. She was so… sick. So exhausted and weary and so…  _ weak _ . He shuddered as the final word passed his mind. A word that Helga would all but punch him for- but it was true.

Phoebe spoke up, “Helga… I know you don’t want to, but... I think you should at least accept Arnold’s offer before your cold gets any worse.”

Helga frowned, but she knew Phoebe was right. She looked at Arnold and sighed, “ _ Fine _ Arnoldo. You can walk me to the nurse but  _ that’s it _ . And don’t try and get all  _ mushy _ on me!” She pointed a finger in his face before coughing again.

Arnold smirked wearily at Helga’s remark as he tightened his grip below her lanky shoulders and put his free arm around her thin waist for extra support.

“I’ll see you in class, Gerald!” Arnold called out to his friend, who shook his head and smiled.

“Yeah, see ya buddy…”


End file.
